Chapter Text
“What do you think—” Roman jeers, his drink sloshing as his elbow knocks lightly into Shiv’s side, “Full Grey Gardens?”
Shiv eyes the group across the formal living room; Willa, Connor, and Karolina, huddled around in a circle. They’re oblivious to the party around them, deep in some kind of argument that’s been going on for the last ten minutes. Shiv hadn’t been paying attention until Connor looked back at her, Willa doing the same at least twice, each time the conversation getting more heated. Karolina, to her credit, hasn’t looked back at all, though Shiv isn’t surprised. She figures if she made out with someone at their brother’s wedding and not even twenty minutes later their dad died, she’d feel a little weird about them too. Not that Roman knows anything about that.
“I already asked,” Shiv says. “Willa said she only has one cat.”
“Shame,” Roman sighs. “I was hoping to finally meet someone more deserving of institutionalization than you.”
“Funny,” Shiv says, knocking back another sip of her scotch. “Try looking up the next time you’re jerking off to a mirror.”
He mimics her words, his nasally voice filling her ears as Willa looks over again, and she pulls a face at Willa this time, laughing into her drink as Karolina gestures towards Willa animatedly.
“What do they even want with you?” Roman asks.
It’s a good question, one Shiv also wishes she knew the answer to. Karolina told Willa she has some paintings to sell, but what Shiv doesn’t know, is if that’s the only thing Karolina told her.
“Karolina’s a prospective client,” Shiv says. “Didn’t get the chance to talk at the wedding, so. Here we are.”
“Right,” Roman says. “I mean, who really had the time anyway, what, between the cake-cutting and the cardiac arrest.”
And the janitor’s closet.
“Regardless,” Roman adds, “I don’t think selling a few paintings requires a symposium in the middle of a dinner party.”
Shiv hums thoughtfully, taking one last glance at the group before settling back on Roman. “Karolina is an arbitrator,” she says. “Maybe they’re kicking you out of Dad’s will.”
“They can’t do that,” Roman says. Then he frowns, his nose crinkling as he turns to Shiv. “Can they do that?”
Shiv flashes her eyes, “With any luck.”
“Oh, fuck off,” Roman rolls his eyes.
Shiv can only assume whatever it is, is about her, but she couldn’t wager a guess on the topic. Roman checks his phone, prompting Shiv to check her own. Five texts from Tom and a voicemail.
“Jesus,” Roman says. “Is he your husband or a puppy?”
Neither, is what Shiv wants to say, but the ink isn’t fully dry, and she’d promised Tom they’d keep things under wraps until his bid for the promotion goes through. As if she even owes him that.
“End of quarter budgeting,” Shiv lies. “He’s just stressed.” About the apartment, and the pre-nup, and, “The optics in the office wouldn’t be great, Shiv,” and, “Think about how hard this will be on Mondale, Shiv,” and anything else he can think of to guilt her into going easy on the settlement.
“I’m going in,” Shiv says then, not giving Roman time to inquire about Tom any further.
“Signal if you need rescue,” Roman drones, leaning against the wall, his voice trailing behind her as she walks away. “And tell Con the lamb was dry.”
She ignores him, heading straight for her target. Connor is the first to greet her as she approaches them confidently, his inviting side-hug still somewhat awkward amongst the sudden silence. Willa attempts a smile, though it comes off more forced than anything, and Karolina stands like she’d rather be anywhere else.
“Sorry,” Shiv says, feigning innocence. “Am I interrupting?”
“Of course not,” Connor says immediately, “we were just—”
Willa coughs into her glass, and Connor stutters.
“—talking about how wonderful it would be if you came to Willa’s play next month.”
“Uh-huh,” Shiv says. Connor’s always been shit at lying, and despite her usual efforts, Willa’s only making his credibility worse in this moment. Even still, Shiv isn’t really sure she wants to know what gossip about her they’ve been rehashing. The rumor mill hasn’t been kind to her as of late, what, with a dead father, a seemingly-absent husband, and a fucking nepotism hit-piece of all things, she’s had her fill. “What’s this one about again?”
“It’s a modern re-telling of Bonnie and Clyde, shown through the lens of a waitress and a watchmaker,” Willa says. She at least seems genuine this time, as she gestures to Karolina. “Karolina actually helped me with the book.”
Karolina stands rigid, forcing a smile at the group as Willa brings her into the conversation. Shiv doesn’t know much about her; only that Willa befriended her a few years ago after she and Connor took over residency at the Winter Palace—not to be confused with the Summer Palace—and they’ve been inseparable ever since. And she only has one cat, despite her Connecticut castle looking straight out of Architectural Digest: Stylites of Salem.
(Shiv and Roman spent the earlier half of the dinner looking up satellite images of the street. It only took about five minutes to figure out which house belonged to Karolina.)
“Well, I just did some line edits,” Karolina interjects. “The credit’s all on you, Will.”
Shiv bites back a smirk. Judging by the last play, she doesn’t think she’d want any identifiable credit either.
“We’ll see how long the estate sale keeps me in town,” Shiv says. “Dad has a lot of pieces we need to get through, so who knows. I could be here a while.”
The most daunting part of your billionaire father dying, it seems, is sorting through the hundreds of art pieces the man has collected across tens of properties. It’s not all on Shiv; she’d blow her brains out sorting through the historically significant elk busts residing in the cabin in Montana, but Connor had asked her to help with the small gallery in Connecticut, left specifically to him in the will.
“Karolina—Shiv’s the art dealer,” Willa says. “Remember?”
The thickly disguised remember, lets Shiv know that Willa has been speaking about her to Karolina, and it also queues her in on the fact that Willa does not know what her maid-of-honor got up to during her wedding. The hostility suddenly makes sense. Karolina’s trying to keep a secret.
“Right, Shiv,” Karolina says, and the semblance of a real smile suddenly appears. Shiv still thinks it’s tight-lipped and certified inauthentic, but it’s there, nonetheless. “It’s nice to see you again.”
Shiv thinks about toying with her, toeing the line between teasing and torment, but that would mean dredging up her own misery, and she doesn’t feel like doing the math on collateral damage this early in the evening.
“Likewise,” Shiv says, noting Karolina’s faint surprise at Shiv’s quick yielding. Karolina definitely read the hit-piece.
“Oh, Con—” Willa suddenly says, “I completely forgot about the—ice, in the trunk.”
“Right,” Connor says, eyeing Shiv. “The ice in the trunk. Uh, let’s go get that before it melts.”
Shiv does her best to hold in her laughter as they scramble, watching in amusement as they instantly deny Karolina in her offer to help, seemingly not being able to leave the area quick enough. It’s lacking in execution, but the attempt is endearing enough, though Shiv isn’t sure why anyone would believe Connor or Willa would’ve been the people picking up ice for a dinner party.
“Subtle,” Shiv says, and Karolina sighs.
“Very,” Karolina agrees, crossing her arms.
Karolina screams annoyed, and once again, Shiv resists the urge to test her.
“Just so you know,” Shiv says, “I’d be very offended if you thought I had something to do with that.”
Karolina’s expression softens slightly, “Willa’s just being Willa.”
“I mean, ice in the trunk?” Shiv asks pointedly, and Karolina can’t ward off a laugh, even a small one, and Shiv takes it as an opening, because even though she’s resigned herself to kindness this evening, it doesn’t mean she can’t have a little fun.
“So,” she says, dragging out the word. “How’ve you been?”
Karolina eyes her with a bit of disdain, as if she’s asking Shiv, “Are we really doing this?” and it’s not like Shiv wants to make it painful, isn’t asking her to relive the events of their last meeting, but there’s a challenge in front of her now, and who is she to say no to a challenge?
“C’mon, entertain me a little,” Shiv says. “Then you can run back to Willa and say that I’m pretentious and awful and everything you’ve heard about me is true, and that I really insulted your choice of the Riesling over the Chablis when I called it tacky and predictable.”
That gets a hearty laugh out of Karolina, a surprising sound as her cool exterior cracks just a fraction, and while she settles back into neutrality, Shiv can tell she’s softened her up some.
“Is that right?” Karolina asks, raising an eyebrow. Shiv raises one back, a challenge, and Karolina nods to herself. “You know a glass of scotch doesn’t automatically mean you’re going to impress any of the men in the room, right?”
“Maybe it’s not the men who I want to impress,” Shiv fires back. She takes a sip and winks, satisfaction flooding her as Karolina sucks in her cheeks, an obvious attempt to not smile.
“Thought you weren’t in on Willa’s little game,” Karolina says, and Shiv shrugs.
“Can’t hurt to push my luck,” Shiv says. “How am I doing?”
Karolina looks down, the reserved air returning to her as she frowns. It’s a similar coldness that Shiv had felt when she first walked up, but now it’s mixed with something else, an imbued sadness that feels too much like regret. Shiv follows her eyes, no doubt landed on the diamonds Shiv has yet to take off. She puts her left hand in her pocket, and Karolina’s eyes snap back up to hers.
“Look, Shiv, I don’t know what Willa’s said to you, but I’m not looking to get involved in anything right now,” Karolina says. Shiv can hear the honesty in her tone, and it tugs at her. It reminds her of when Tom first came to her, a bleeding heart displayed straight on his sleeve, and she’d said almost the same thing. Of course, he hadn’t listened to her, and look where they ended up, but the way she said anything feels a lot more to do with Shiv than it does to do with involvement itself.
“She just mentioned that you have a private collection, and you might be looking to sell, that’s all,” Shiv says. Her hand twitches in her pocket. “And, I don’t know. I’m not really looking for anything either. Not sure what would give Willa and Con the impression.”
Karolina nods, uncertainty still radiating off of her in waves, likely because Karolina knows what could give them the impression, but she seems set on ignoring that memory still.
“Um, yeah—I might have a few pieces,” she says. “They were inherited. I’m not quite sure where to start in selling them.”
“If only you knew someone,” Shiv frowns, and she waits for Karolina’s response—one last test, just to know for sure.
It seems, Karolina can’t resist a comeback, especially under the pretense of Shiv not looking for anything either. The two of them can have some fun, not a single string attached.
“If only,” she says, and Shiv takes it as another invitation. A small one, at the very least.
“I could give you my number, but, I don’t want you to take it the wrong way,” Shiv says.
“Why would I take it the wrong way?” Karolina asks. “Surely, you can handle a professional client-relationship, right?”
Shiv purses her lips and pulls a business card out of her clutch.
“My business hours are Monday through Friday, eight to four,” she says, handing over the card. “Anything outside of them will be considered strictly not business.”